


sempre t'amo ti dirò

by little_mad_margaret



Category: Tosca - Puccini/Illica/Giacosa
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, opera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12775623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_mad_margaret/pseuds/little_mad_margaret
Summary: Tosca had no reason to believe that a man would do anything other than break her heart.





	sempre t'amo ti dirò

“Explain yourself,” Tosca said flatly, folding her arms and pinning him with her glare.

Cavaradossi threw up his hands. “What is there to explain? I am an artist. I employ models to draw from. Is there anything unusual in that?”

“There is when you  _ neglect  _ your poor Floria in favour of some half-dressed little snip!” she growled, indicating the sketches lying on his desk.

“It was all strictly professional,” he said evenly. “She was here for only an hour. I paid her for her trouble.”

Tosca’s eyebrows shot up. “I don't know if that makes it better or worse!”

“It makes it  _ better, obviously _ \- would you rather she came here for love of it?”

He regretted that choice of words immediately. Tosca pressed her lips together and turned away. “This is too much, Mario. Too much.”

“Well,” said Cavaradossi, beginning to feel just the slightest bit irked, “how do you think it is for me to see you embrace other men on the stage?”

She huffed, widening her eyes. “That's completely different! You can't have a liaison on stage, with everyone watching you and the costumes getting in the way and everything smelling like greasepaint!  _ Here _ , on the other hand, with the door closed and no one else in the house…”

She raised an eyebrow meaningfully. Cavaradossi was, for once, at a loss for words.

“You'll just have to trust me!” he burst out after blustering for a few moments. “I didn't do anything with that woman besides draw her! Besides, you do this every time. Last time it was that young man--I've forgotten his name--he was too pretty and fair and you didn't like that. Before that it was--

“ _ Oh _ ,” said Tosca, bristling with wounded pride. “So now  _ I'm  _ the troublesome one.” Her eyes filled with righteous tears. “I'm sorry to inconvenience you.”

“Floria, no…” But she was already out the door, letting out a hurt little sob as she kicked it shut behind her. 

Cavaradossi sighed and decided not to go after her. She only needed time to cool off, he knew. Besides, it wasn't altogether unreasonable for her to be jealous. He knew of the chaotic string of betrayals that had coloured her younger years - she had little reason to believe a man would do anything other than break her heart. He certainly did not plan on hurting her, but these things took time.

Putting the matter to one side, he settled down to do some work.

*

Cavaradossi was woken at some unearthly hour of the morning by a creaking noise, as if the front door was being opened. He tensed, listening carefully, and detected the sound of footsteps on the floor. Head buzzing with tiredness, he slid out of bed, grasping for a housecoat, to see what it was.

“Mario.” The soft voice came out of nowhere. He started violently upon seeing a dark figure at the door, whispering his name. When he had collected himself, however, he realised who it was, and everything made sense, because she was the only other person who had a key.

“ _ Floria?  _ What are you doing here? It isn't even light yet!”

“I'm sorry,” she said, subdued. “I couldn't sleep, and I started thinking…”

“That's dangerous,” he quipped. She frowned at him.

“I couldn't sleep, and I started thinking...Mario, we’re we’re still all right, aren't we? We're still... _ together?” _

It dawned on him. “Floria. You came all the way here and woke me up in the dead of night to make sure we're still together?”

“Well, are we?”

He tried not to laugh as he reassured her. “Of course, Floria. Of course. I love you, and a little fight or two isn't going to change that.”

Tosca threw her arms around him suddenly, taking him by surprise. “Oh, Mario, I’m so sorry. I'm such a little fool.”

“No, you're not.” He returned her embrace, gently stroking her hair. “I don't mind, really I don't. As long as you're happy, my love.”

“I'm sorry for being so jealous,” she said, muffled against his chest. “I don't mean to, but every time I just get carried away and forget myself…”

“That's all right. Would you like to stay here? It’s quite cold outside and I know you're careful of your voice.”

“Thank you,” she said sheepishly. “This was so awful of me. Tomorrow I'll go to confession and--

This time he did laugh, heartily. “If that makes you happy, my Tosca. Though I'd much prefer it if you stayed here in bed with me.”

“Hmmm.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “We'll see about that.”


End file.
